NCC Central Command

     Located inside a huge dome, the Command Center is a study in efficiency and dark intent. Cunningly hidden lights illuminate the lower levels and central command deck, while three huge wall-mounted screens cast their flickering glow into the upper gloom, each displaying a different view of the city. The curving interior walls are covered in smooth hexagonal metal plates with a dark purple sheen, their perfection broken only by regularly placed hexagonal basalt columns carved with strange motifs, the last reminder of the ancient city that once stood here. The columns loom over the sophisticated computer terminals that line the room's perimeter and from which every aspect of New Crystal City can be controlled - sensors, weapons, automated systems, communications and countless other functions.

Contents:

Cyclonus

Extended Radio <NCC>

Decepticon Object <DO>

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to NCC Medical Ward.

South <S> leads to NCC Spaceport.

East <E> leads to NCC Central Hub.

 

Standing tall in the midst of the command center is the daunting form of Cyclonus, the towering purple figure bathed in the soft glow of the various viewscreens that reside above and around him. Screens that the Decepticon Second studies intently, information being scrutinised and stored away for future use and dissemination as the commander sees fit. There are projects, missions, and details here that some Decepticons are never permitted to see, and it is upon the console located directly before Cyclonus' form that such secrets appear. The amount of information being manipulated is enormous by human standards, but for Cyclonus, it is merely a review of the current status of the Empire.

 

Hook walks in, carrying his toolbox. "If the consoles had been made properly in the the /firstf place, I would not have to keep fixing them..." he grumbles. "Why can't Scrapper, or Mixmaster do it? No, they get /me/ to do it. Work, work, work, I do all of the work. Brothers..." Having gotten to the malfuntioning console he sets his toolbox down on the ground. He notices /someone/ standing at another console. oODon't be Scourge...Oo Looking closer, he diserns who it is. "Good cycle, Commander." he says, saluting the Unicronian. After a moment, he starts prying the cover off of the console.

 

Cyclonus raises his hand to signal that he has heard the salutation from another Decepticon, optics still scanning over the data before him. It is crucial to have such information kept available for as little time as possible, to avoid any unfortunate attempts to hack said data while it is being accessed. Lowering his hand to type some more, Cyclonus types a few keys before he pauses. Risking a glance, Cyclonus confirms his suspicions. A Constructicon. Fabulous. Cyclonus turns back and begins the rather lengthy process of disconnecting the console from whatever secure database it is connected to.

 

Okay, Cyclonus is busy. Hook can handle that. Turning back to the console, he pokes around with his tools, trying to find out what caused the malfunction. "... What is stuck in here?" Hook sighs in exasperation. "..." Hook starts to carefully pull wires out of the console. "Who designed this? If I had designed this..." He mutters angerly, continue-ing his work. "What a mess..."

 

Screens flicker around Cyclonus as data disappears, returning from whence it came. After a few moments of work, the monitors return to their usual displays, various statistics about Decepticon installations and projects. Even with this constantly updated interface, it still cannot replace a good chit-chat with those most directly involved. Turning away from the console, the bunny-eared one looks around for a few moments and spots the Constructicon, as well as the malfunctioning console. While such matters are important, Cyclonus feels that his suspicions are far more pressing. Waiting for a moment as a gumby crosses his path on his way to file some reports, Cyclonus slowly begins walking towards Hook.

 

Hook grabs Cyclonus by the underpants and gives him a wedgie.

Cyclonus grabs Hook by the underpants and gives him a wedgie.

 

*Thud* *Thud* Uh-oh... Hook pauses, unsure as to whether he should ignore Cyclonus and continue working on the console, risking verbal abuse, or simply stand up and find out what the Commander needs. Best go with a compromise. Continue-ing work on the console, Hook asks quietly, "Commander? Something I can help you with, sir?"4

 

4? FOUR?! You shall die for this insolence!

 

EEK!

 

Cyclonus comes to a halt a short distance from the console, clear of Hook's work area, but close enough to have a conversation at reasonable volume levels. "In truth, that depends on any number of things. I am not mistaken in assuming that you joined your fellow Constructicons to the invasion of Nebulos, am I?" The lieutenant looks to the left as a gumby leans slightly to hear better, bending down and scooping up a plasma welder from the toolbox. Pointing it at the eavesdropping gumby, who has now virtually leapt back to his usual upright position, Cyclonus growls, "Continue to listen to such confidential matters, Lockdown, and I will see to it that Hook welds your audials to Trypticon's heel, understood?" Turning back to the Constructicon, Cyclonus drops the welder into the toolbox once again and ignores the gumby's attempts to grovel.

 

Shrike arrives from the NCC Medical Ward to the north.

Shrike has arrived.

 

"Indeed, sir, I did join my brothers on the invasion of Nebulos." Hook affirms. still working on the console. "Infernal outdated components. This is going to require a complete overhaul." He sighs, and starts ripping out cables, wires, and other electrical stuff. "I returned to Earth to collect my work, and I found a note asking me to look at this console..." He sighs again.

 

Comcast wanders into the NCC's hub, looking for an MSE member. I wonder if one is about, perchance..?

 

"Excellent." Cyclonus looks around, and then ducks down slightly to permit reducing the volume of his vocaliser, "Did you have any dealings with the Nebulons beyond the initial interaction between their security forces and our own troops?" Man, he's still goin' on about that ol' thang. Maybe he'll just skip it and whipe out the Nebulon population regardless.

 

Shrike glides into the room silently behind and slightly above Comcast, passing through the doors just before they slide shut. The new avian takes note of all those present, but rather than interrupt a conversation he perches on a chair arm next to one of the tertiary computer stations. He cranes his neck slightly and begins pecking at the keys, bringing up basic roster files on Decepticons and known Autobots for memorization.

 

Comcast gives a glance at Hot R.. SHRIKE.. as he enters. Good, always good to see extra research being done. He gives a nod of approval before turning to Cyclonus and saluting. "Sir!" He announces. "When you are finished with Hook, I would like a request from him." He doesn't announce this to Hook. That one time The H-Man dissed him was annoying (the previous player of the character) so he doesn't really bother with him all that much. Eh, all those constructicons do is fight with each other, anyway.

 

Shrike turns his head just a bit, so one optic is trained on the gathering in the center of the room while the other is still focused on the information screen. "Fascinating......" The little bird mutters, but whether the word is a comment on the data he's absorbing from the computer display or the conversation in the background is anyone's guess.

 

"...Indeed, sir." Hook replies, also lowering the volume of his vocalizer. He glances around, and notices the new arrivals. Oh goodie, a Jet-boy and...who is that? And yes, he hears Comcast. "Comcast, if you need to speak with me, ask me personally!" Hook says, not too loud, just loud enough so that the Seeker can hear him. He turns to the other arrival, who appears to be one of Soudwave's sons...erm, troops. "Good cycle, friend. I do not believe we have met. I am Hook."

 

"I'm not about to ask you when I could annoy Cyclonus," Comcast mutters at the green one. And who cares about him? After all, It ONLY Hook. He hands the Constructislop a copy of english and the lizardmen language on a datascreen. "Reflector wants a language converter done. HEre is everything you'll need." He gives him a nod and Cyclonus a salute before leaving. Sadly, he's run out of OOC time and has to fleeeee to work again. Le Sigh.

 

Shrike turns his attention to the conversation now as Hook addresses him. "My designation is Shrike...." The avian replies with his hollow voice. "Good Cycle...." His optics turn to Cyclonus now, noting the warrior's appearance visibly by bowing his head. "Commander....."

 

A such notice, such attention, such concern... Is it respect? Or is it fear? Cyclonus doesn't really concern himself with such thoughts, merely accepting these salutations in the order that they are given and moving onward. Almost staring at Comcast's sudden arrival and departure, the Decepticon Second casts it aside and chooses to speak with Comcast about some other things on his mind later. Turning to Shrike, Cyclonus chooses to maintain a certain degree of tact and greets the tape. "Greetings... Shrike, was it?"

 

Shrike makes a short hop up onto the back of the chair from his perch on the arm, his talons digging into the metal to stabilize him. "Yes Commander....my Designation is Shrike." He tilts his head to the side just slightly, perhaps studying the design of the Decepticon second. "Some form of space-faring fighter....dissimiliar to a standard pyramid jet. Interesting...." He snaps out of the short monologue. "Forgive me sir. My curiousity knows no bounds. I meant no disrespect."

 

"There is none taken, Shrike. A keen optic is a highly commendable asset to a Decepticon." Cyclonus steps over the tool box that Hook has set down, looking over to a gumby whose wandering audials were 'dealt with' earlier. "Provided it is used for the Empire, and not one's personal fancy." Cyclonus smirks slightly, "Information, after all, is a power of a higher order than simple brute force. However, both have their place..." Cyclonus looks again towards the gumby, who is once again leaning, ever so slightly, to try to hear these conversations better. Perhaps a more effective method of corrective action is necessary.. Cyclonus returns his attention to the Cassetticon, "I trust your presence in the command center is not at the detriment of your other duties?"

 

Shrike shakes his head slowly. "Negative Commander, I am off-duty. Soundwave has instructed me to absorb all relevant and unrestricted data on the Decepticon rank and file, as well as all known Autobot soldiers. A task that I rather savor. Unlike my brethren I have an unsavory need for knowledge. Every bite of data is potentially useful information to the Empire's cause.... and toward my personal development. How can one learn to be a truly effective warrior if one does not study his allies and adversaries?"

 

"Indeed. A complete tactical overview of the forces assisting and opposing the cause is an essential asset when one wishes for success." Cyclonus glances to the screen, to verify that Shrike has not found a means to gain access to the more confidential information available on Decepticon soldiers, "Your efforts and enthusiasm are commendable, Shrike, they may serve you well within the Empire."

 

Shrike nods, glancing at the data himself ever so briefly. "I was designed for a specific purpose, as all Soundwave's creations are....I cannot fulfil my obligations and complete my tasks without such information. Escort duty for our spies may indeed be a near thankless job...however the knowledge I am processing will aid in the defense of more valuable information or supplies at a later time. This one....." He indicates the screen as it displays Cliffjumper. "Our records indicate he uses cryo-chemical based weaponry...so if he is encountered a minimum safe-distance of .37 clicks will ensure his weaponry will be only marginally effective, if at all. Small bits of information....but still useful."

 

Hook yanks out a nasty snarl of wires. He's been working on the blasted console this whole time, see. "...Looks like a turborat got in here and made a nest! I'm going to have to rip this whole console apart." He glances at the datapad Comcast left for him. "Great, /more/ work..."

 

"Should you maintain such energy, you may not have to serve as a bodyguard for too long." Cyclonus glances at the image of Cliffjumper, "Indeed. Others possessing wind-based weaponry, such as Motormaster or Vortex, may likewise be effective at countering his choice of equipment." The Lieutenant steps backwards, prepared to deal with Hook once again, "You may continue your assimilation at your leisure, Shrike, although perhaps your skills may be useful, should Hook provide the appropriate information."

 

Shrike nods in response to Cyclonus, "OF course Commander. Given the proper lingual keys I could transpose the languages....though constructing a physical device to house the code is beyond my capabilities." The avian hops back and shuts off the monitor with his beak before taking the short flight to land near the datapad that Comcast left. "Most interesting...."

 

Hook looks over to Shrike as the avian tape lands next to him. He smiles slightly. "I appreciate your offer of assistance, Shrike." he says. He means it too. Someone ACTUALLY wants to help him. How often does that happen? He turns again to the job of fixing this infernal console. Yeah, he forgot Cyclonus was there.

 

The Decepticon second places a hand carefully over the datapad, concealing the information so as to have Shrike's undivided attention. "That may wait for another cycle, Shrike, should my suspicions be warranted. In fact, provided you have no further assignments, I would like you to investigate the current state of the Nebulon people. I worry that we are growing far too content with our holdings there, and they may be preparing something." Looking down, Cyclonus drops his voice a few decibels, "Hook, have you found any reason to question the Nebulon's unconditional surrender of their entire planet and all its people, beyond the fact that they accepted complete subversion of their entire society far too easily?"

 

Shrike turns his full attention back to Cyclonus as he covers the datapad. "As you say Commander. I do not have a predisposed aptitude toward subversive action but I will perform to the best of my abilities. If you wish me to observe the Nebulans..I will do so keenly."

 

"The Nebulon society is one based on passivity and non-agression. My preliminary research of their culture shows that such subterfuge would be quite unlike them, sir." Hook says, his voice lowered as well. Although he wouldn't be suprised if Shrike could still hear him. "In fact, deception is looked down upon in their society. How does that Terran phase go?" Hook hrrms to himself for a moment. "Ah yes. They wear their hearts on their sleeves." After a moments pause, he goes back to the all-important task of fixing the console. One-track mind...

 

Cyclonus nods, "Excellent. You will be able to observe and interact as necessary with the Nebulons far more effectively than those of ..." Cyclonus pauses for a moment, searching for some tact, ".. a larger stature." Cyclonus nods to Hook, considering this information carefully, "Indeed. Perhaps I will have to make arrangements for a personal visit with their leaders. Thank you, Hook." Looking back to the cassette, Cyclonus nods, "Postpone such attempts to investigate for now, Shrike. I will contact you once again after I have collected more data."

 

Shrike nods serenely. "Of course Commander. My skills are at your disposal." He looks down at the datapad that Cyclonus still covers. "If you have no other duties for me, I will assist Hook by transposing these languages."

 

Hook nods at Cyclonus, then scowls at the console. oOI give up...I have to replace the whole unit...Waste of timeOo "I'm afraid that this console will have to be completely re-wired." Hokk grumbles to no one in particular. Hearing Shrike, he nods. "Yes. I do suppose that should that preferance over a mere mechanical problem." Or maybe he just doesn't want to bother with the darn thing any longer.

 

Cyclonus nods, and removes his hand, "That is all, for both of you. If you have nothing to report to me, I must locate.." Cyclonus looks between the two of them, ".. someone of importance." Yes, that's the ticket. Saluting quickly, Cyclonus steps back and then around, activating his radio as he heads towards the exit.

 

Shrike bows his head as Cyclonus leaves and quickly snatches up the datapad with his talons.....fresh data.... He would smile if he were capable. "Transposition should be a simple task...yes.....though I cannot enter the data into the pad manually...." The avian lands gently on a vacant table and spins around to study the foreign language, as English comes pre-programmed in Decepticons these days. "My absorption of their lingual patterns will take approximately 3 earth hours....."

 

(NOTE-pose added in the editing)